


MAG 181-SIDE B

by malevon



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, No beta we kayak like Tim, Post 181, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, if anything in this contrasts with canon just ignore it yeah?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevon/pseuds/malevon
Summary: Statement of Martin K. Blackwood, regarding the six days spent with Jonathan Sims in the "safe bubble" created by Mikaele Salesa. Statement given directly by subject, in situ.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 46
Kudos: 159





	MAG 181-SIDE B

[TAPE CLICKS ON]

[CRUNCHING SOUNDS OF FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL]

[SOMEONE SIGHS]

MARTIN

You’re sure you’re feeling better now? You’ve been… awfully quiet. 

ARCHIVIST

Yes. That’s… that’s sort of the problem.

[ONE SET OF FOOTSTEPS SPEEDS UP A BIT]

MARTIN

Talk to me?

ARCHIVIST

[ANOTHER SIGH]

I just… I’m upset. That I don’t remember, and that you’re so upset we had to leave. You said it sounded nice, and, and, I’m… yeah. [ _ smiling _ ] I’m a bit upset. 

MARTIN

Well, heh, yeah, it, it was… nice. You were… you were relaxed. So was I, for that matter. But we couldn’t have stayed there. 

ARCHIVIST

Well— 

MARTIN

Nope! I couldn’t have stayed there either! We’ve been over this, and I am not hearing any more about it!

[THE ARCHIVIST LAUGHS SOFTLY]

ARCHIVIST

Guess I have no choice but to be quiet about it then, do I?

[COMFORTABLE SILENCE. CRUNCHING OF FEET ON GRAVEL. AFTER A MOMENT:]

ARCHIVIST

Martin? 

[MARTIN HUMS]

Could you… [ _ gently, easily; the Archivist has not used his powers in several days, and takes extra care not to slip back into them _ ] tell me about it? What happened?

MARTIN

O-Oh. Well, yeah, of course, Jon, but, I already told you about the bits of Mikaele’s statement that you couldn’t remember, and I’m pretty sure I covered all the important bits— 

ARCHIVIST

No, no, the… the  _ unimportant _ bits, the… when we were relaxed. What did we do?

MARTIN

[ _ softly _ ] Oh. 

[FABRIC RUSTLES]

Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.

MARTIN (STATEMENT?)

[ _ he takes a breath]  _ I remember… walking into the house. And we saw Mikaele for just a second before I just, I just  _ collapsed _ , and I remember being worried about you, too. And then I just remember sleeping a  _ lot.  _ But… but I remember waking up. A couple times, actually, and feeling so, so groggy. [ _ he laughs _ ] Like, like the first few nights I slept on the cot in the Institute. But not really, I suppose? Because this was the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life, I think, even better than in Scotland. But I still woke up, a couple times, yeah. And I remember waking up, and you were there. You were there, and you looked so  _ peaceful _ , and all I could do was just… go back to sleep. And hope that your dreams were painless.

[A SMALL HUFF OF A LAUGH — THE ARCHIVIST?]

[ _ wistfully _ ] You looked so peaceful. 

But… yeah. Mikaele said we slept for 71 hours, which is an amount of time that I didn’t even think humans were capable of sleeping for, but I think we deserved it. I don’t remember, uhm, a lot about this part. But I do remember it was warm. The safehouse was cold, sometimes, cold in the way that, that sometimes made me think of… of the Lonely. 

[MORE FABRIC RUSTLES — A THUMP, LIKE A HEAD BEING LAID AGAINST A SHOULDER]

It was so warm in there. I didn’t feel Lonely, not once, not there. It was so warm. I woke up a few times, and we’d be in different positions every time. I think my favorite one that I remember clearly was… Uh, I think you had just, tucked your head under my chin, like, like a cat. Yeah. It was always warm.

Before we went out and you took—or [ _ snorts _ ] you  _ tried _ to take Mikaele’s statement, we… We took a bath together. The bath in the manor was so much bigger than the one in Scotland, Jon. So big, and we could both fit in it. We had to run the water three times, we were so dirty, and you insisted on not sitting in our own filth. You just wanted to sit in the water. Can’t say I disagreed with you. There was—hell, there was a  _ bath bomb _ set out for us that we used! Little salt and sugar scrubs that you said felt good on your scars. On your hands. And you… heh. You kept wanting to feel my hands. Kept saying they felt so soft. [ _ bashful _ ] And we washed each other’s hair. Like we never really got to do in the safehouse. Not enough room, you remember that. 

[AFFIRMATIVE HUM FROM THE ARCHIVIST. HE IS LISTENING INTENTLY.]

And we got cleaned up, and then we just… we just sat in the bath, after the water had gone cold, and you made a comment about how you didn’t even know the temperature of the water, and you got this, this  _ shine _ in your face, and it was, honestly, quite silly. But you were really happy. To not know how cold the water was. To just be able to say that it was [ _ Martin intones in his best “Archivist” voice _ ] “uncomfortable.” But eventually we did have to get out, because our stomachs just kept growling. I was  _ so _ hungry, Jon, and you, you didn’t want to say it, but your stomach was growling, too, and I, I actually had to force you to eat, a little. You… [ _ a little sadly _ ] you didn’t want to eat. You were convinced the food wasn’t real, and honestly, you didn’t want me to eat, either. But you were withering away, and, I think that’s when… I think that was the first time I knew. That we couldn’t stay. 

[SILENCE, FOR A BEAT]

ARCHIVIST

What was your favorite thing you ate there?

MARTIN (STATEMENT?)

Oh. Heh. I think… Hm. Honestly? Mikaele had stashed away some of those little wrapped strawberry cakes we used to keep in the break room. I haven’t had those in probably over a year. I think I had to have eaten, maybe, four or five of those. [ _ laughs _ ] Oh! I remember, when I was in the kitchen getting those, I saw a  _ cat.  _ An actual, honest-to-God cat. And I absolutely  _ tore _ through the hallways—I couldn’t even remember where our room was—you know what, actually, how did we get in there? D-don’t try to answer that, I’m just wondering, did—did Mikaele carry us both in there? Anyway, I, I found you, and you were convinced that something had just gone so  _ terribly _ wrong. But I just grabbed your arm and tore you right back through to the other side of the house. But by the time we got there, the damned thing was gone. And I told you about the cat. And you were upset that you hadn’t gotten to see it. But, but you said that, uhm, you said I looked really, uhm, [ _ a touch quieter, a touch faster _ ]  _ beautiful _ ? Your word, not mine. I mean, I must have looked right mad, rambling on about a cat, out of breath from running across the whole of the house— 

ARCHIVIST

[ _ stern, but clearly fond _ ] Martin. 

[MARTIN SPUTTERS]

MARTIN

O-okay. Okay, okay. Yeah. You said I looked beautiful. 

MARTIN (STATEMENT?)

Anyway, we… We spent a day, just, existing. After the bath you insisted we get back in bed. You still looked so tired. I wanted to sit on the window seat in our room and just, sit, and just,  _ be _ in the sun. You didn’t want to… hm. You didn’t want to be more than a few feet apart from me. Gosh, you really are just a cat, aren’t you, Jon? You compromised by letting me sit in the window seat as long as you could sleep in my lap. So I let you, of course. We sat like that for a few hours, and you slept the whole time, mumbling in your sleep, but not like you did in the safehouse. Silly things. Talking about, you know, typical dream nonsense—I’m pretty sure at one point you told me, with a  _ lot _ of conviction, that you were an immortal space pirate. Addressed me by name and everything. It was jarring, frankly. 

We sat there for a while. Until the sun started going down. And I woke you up to see the sunset, because it was just… God, Jon, it was beautiful. I wish you remembered it. It was the type of sunset people write true pastoral poetry about. I wish I could write true pastoral poetry about it. It was… It was really, really gorgeous. And I looked at you to see if you were watching, and you were just… looking at me. Looking at me like I was the sunset. Heh. You’re a damn incurable romantic, you know that? 

[A SMALL, QUICK SMECK, LIKE THE SOUND OF A RUSHED KISS ON THE CHEEK]

ARCHIVIST

[ _ with certainty _ ] Yes. 

MARTIN (STATEMENT?)

[ _ laughs fondly _ ] Yeah. 

My legs were right dead by the time we finally got up and moved back into the bed, and I tried to be all  _ dashing _ and carry you there, but I tried to stand and just… just fell. Right on my face. And you were all, fretting over me and whatnot, but I just laughed. And you started laughing, too. And I think that maybe that was my favorite part. Just laughing with you on the floor, the floor of this, this strange definitely-a-trap Web house, just laughing with you. It was really, really nice. 

But we got up eventually. And you were wide awake from your afternoon catnap. I was still wide awake from our three-day-long coma. We just laid in bed and talked. We talked about… a lot of things. Whether we could stay. We both knew we couldn’t, so we changed that topic really quick. We went back to talking about the types of things we used to talk about in the safehouse. What type of plants we would plant in our hypothetical garden. How many cats you would want, how many cats I would allow. You know I’d allow as many cats as you wanted, because I can’t rightly say no to you when it comes to things like that. What pen name I would write under if I ever published any of my poetry. If we would want a house with two stories, or just the one. I think we both missed the safehouse. I know I do. I’m much more suited to the country life. I never want to live in another flat in my life. London is… you know, after all this, I don’t think I ever want to see London again.

ARCHIVIST

Can’t say I blame you.

MARTIN (STATEMENT?)

We talked about… 

[MARTIN TRAILS OFF. IT’S REMINISCENT OF THE ARCHIVIST, IN THE MANOR.]

ARCHIVIST

Martin? What’s wrong?

[A BEAT]

[ _ worried _ ] Martin? What did we talk about?

MARTIN (STATEMENT?)

[ _ flustered _ ] Sorry. Sorry, it’s just… we talked about marriage.

[THE ARCHIVIST MAKES A NOISE. IT’S NOT ONE OF ANGER, OR SURPRISE, JUST A NOISE.]

Yeah. We talked about a wedding. Who we’d invite. Who we wouldn’t. What types of flowers we’d use. Things like that—silly things.

ARCHIVIST

No. No, it’s… a nice thing to think about. Something… [ _ the smile is evident in his voice, like he’s betraying some grand secret, making a massive reveal _ ] Something I think we should talk more about. 

MARTIN

[ _ hopeful _ ] Yeah?

ARCHIVIST

Yeah. 

Yes, Martin, I think… I think after this is all over, I think we should get married. If… if you want to. Only if you want to!

[MARTIN SNORTS, THEN LAUGHS]

[ _ indignant _ ] What? Wh—mmph!

[YET MORE FABRIC RUSTLES. THESE CARRY ON FOR A FEW SECONDS, AND WHEN IT STOPS, BOTH THE ARCHIVIST AND MARTIN ARE BREATHING HEAVILY.]

MARTIN

[ _ indescribably happy _ ] You silly, silly, silly man.

[TAPE CLICKS OFF] 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading.
> 
> leave a comment if you're feeling spicy!
> 
> follow me on tumblr @malevon, or @mikecrewe, my tma sideblog


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